“You don't want some tacky Vegas fly-by. You're serious. You're serious about friendships, about your work, your family. You're serious about Star Wars, and you active dislike of Jar Jar Binks---""Well, God. Come on, anyone who---""You're serious," she continued before he went on a Jar Jar rant, "about living your life on your terms, and being easygoing doesn't negate that one bit. You're serious about what kind of kryptonite is more lethal to Superman.""You have to go with the classic green. I told you, the gold can strip Kryptonians' powers permanently, but---"......"Mkae all the lists you want, Cilla. Love? It's green kryptonite. it powers out all the rest.”

“He [Ryan] narrowed his eyes. "You know, Dr. Jones, I don't think you're pretending to be thick. You just don't get it. Yes, I want to live in this house. It's a good spot to raise children. Look at that, you went white as a ghost. God, that's one of the things I love about you. You're always so shocked when someone interrupts the logic. And I love you, Miranda, beyond sense.”

“You're seriously talking about a ghost. This building - or parts of it - has been here for two and a half centuries. It would strike me odder if there wasn't a ghost. Not everything, everyone, leaves.”

“As a rule of thumb, I'd say one cliché per [Romance]--and then be damn sure you can make it work. But if you're going to try to write the virginal amnesiac twin disguised as a boy mistaken for the mother (or father depending how well the disguise works) of a secret baby, honey, you better have some serious skills. Or seek therapy.”

“I'm wondering, if there was something you wanted, had wanted for some time, what would you do about it?""If I've wanted it, why don't I have it?""Because you haven't made any real effort to get it as yet.""And why haven't I?" He arched his sandy brows. "Am I slow or just stupid?"Brenna thought it over, decided he couldn't know he'd just insulted his first born. Then she nodded slowly. "Maybe a bit of both in this particular case."Relieved to have the conversation turn to a safe area, he gave her a fierce grin. "Then I'd stop being slow and I'd stop being stupid and I'd take good aim at what I wanted and not dawdle about. Because when an O'Toole takes aim, by Jesus, he hits his mark.That, she knew, was true enough. And was certainly expected. "But maybe you're a bit nervous and not quite sure of your skill in this area.""Girl, if you don't go after what you want, you'll never have it. If you don't ask, the answer's always no. If you don't step forward, you're always in the same place.”

“I'll give you a hand with the feeding.""I don't need it.""I'll give you one anyway."Keeley moved out of the box, rested a hand on the door. Best,she decided, to deal with this clean and simple. "Brian, you're working for my family, in a vital and essential role, so I think I should be straight with you.""By all means." The serious tone didn't match the glint in his eyes as she leaned back."You bother me," she told him. "On some level,you just bother me. It's probably because I just don't care for cocky, intense men who smirk at me, but that's neither here nor there.""No,that's here and it's there. What kind do you care for?""You see-that's just the sort of thing that annoys me.""I know.It's interesting, isn't it, that I find myself compelled to do just the thing that gets a rise out of you? You bother me as well. Perhaps it's that I don't care for regal, cool-eyed women who look down their lovely noses at me. But here wwe are, so we should try getting on as best we can.""I don't look down my nose at you, or anyone.""Depends on your point of view, doesn't it?”

“Oh, God. God, isn't that perfect? He's Dad. He's Dad with a layer of nerd. Solid, steady, chipping away so patiently, you don't even know you've had your shields hacked down until you're defenseless. It's the type." "You're not in love with a type, you're in love with a man," Penny corrected. "Or you're not.”